


Write Your Little Drunken Heart Out

by SourChemi



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drinking & Talking, Drunken Shenanigans, Established Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Dedue Molinaro, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Implied Sexual Content, Love Confessions, Love Letters, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, POV Third Person Omniscient, Pining, References to Depression, its just mildly sexual jokes no actual smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:54:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22424392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SourChemi/pseuds/SourChemi
Summary: They all had to admit that they were an odd bunch, but despite their differences it was the perfect little group to gossip and confide in; Sylvain was emotionally closed off to the point of it being kind of sad, Bernadetta was a recluse, Marianne was extremely shy, Ashe was a gentleman, and Claude wasthekeeper of secrets. They began meeting regularly at one of their dorms to talk and relieve stress, initially calling it the Depression Session, but it quickly turned chaotic and amusing when alcohol got involved.Alternatively: complain about your love life in a circle of your closest friends
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Dedue Molinaro, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan, Dorothea Arnault/Bernadetta von Varley, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril, Sylvain & Claude & Bernadetta & Marianne & Ashe
Comments: 14
Kudos: 113





	Write Your Little Drunken Heart Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Absolute_boonit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Absolute_boonit/gifts).



> each chapter will feature a couple!

“Bernieeeee… what am I going to do??”

Sylvain Jose Gautier always loved to brag about how he could hold his liquor, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t get piss drunk. He’d simply drink more to be on the same level as his more lightweight friends, though there were often times when he overcompensated. And, as always, he was moping around about his latest failed attempt to make Felix swoon. The little group of friends in his room, Bernadetta, Marianne, Ashe, and Claude, could never imagine Felix swooning, but supported him, nonetheless. The purple haired girl even gingerly patted his back to provide some comfort.

No complaints were ever made, nor was he ever interrupted. This was exactly the time and place to grouse about unrequited love. Every once in a while, when things got overwhelming, they would meet in someone’s dorm and just talk with a communal bottle of whatever Sylvain bought with his parents’ money. It was the perfect little group to gossip and confide in. Sylvain was emotionally closed off to the point of it being kind of sad, Bernadetta was a recluse, Marianne was extremely shy, Ashe was a gentleman, and Claude was _the_ keeper of secrets. Whatever was brought up in the circle, stayed in the circle. The two girls who rarely spoke felt safe enough to open up, and that was something the others prided in. Claude very eloquently dubbed these get-togethers the Depression Session. The rest of the group protested but were forced to stick with it when no one could think of a better name. 

“Well, to be fair, you flirting isn’t really out of the ordinary. Of _course_ little Felix took it as a joke.” Claude chuckled, gently taking away the bottle of cherry liqueur from Sylvain’s limp hand. It was cheap and disgusting, but it got the job done. They were already on the second bottle. “And that’s enough for you tonight.”

“What? It’s not like I have to leave this room! It’s my room!” The redhead gestured wildly as he stared at Claude, aghast. This was true, but Claude raised an eyebrow and shook his head. Ashe was already planning on staying over in the crammed space to take care of the aftermath, and lord knows the sweet boy doesn’t need Sylvain to be any more drunk than he already was. It seemed like Sylvain was somewhat aware of this, however, as his complaining ended there.

Taking a large swig from the bottle and grimacing at the sickly-sweet aftertaste, Claude turned to the group and announced, “my turn!” and a hush fell over the room. It was rare for Claude to share in these sessions; he preferred to gather as many juicy secrets as possible while keeping his own tightly wrapped up, watching the drama unfold from afar like it was a Shakespearean play. Because of how rare a treat this was, everyone leaned in slightly to catch his every word. He seemed to relish in the attention for a moment, a pleased grin appearing on his face before being replaced with an exasperated expression. “I cannot stress this enough; Dimitri is as dense as a brick. At this point I’m afraid that he’ll read the whole situation wrong if I outright say, ‘hey, let’s go out on a romantic date, just the two of us, _romantically_. Y’know, as romantic partners do.’” 

There was a murmur of agreement and it was especially fervent from Ashe and Sylvain, who spent a lot of time around the hot blond mess. Dimitri could be proposed to and he would take it as a platonic gesture of admiration.

“Well, I guess I _did_ say I wouldn’t look for a relationship while going through college…” Claude sighed wistfully, as if his resolution had doomed him somehow. “But… he’s such an idiot. I can’t _not_ fuck him.”

As if he hadn’t just said a vulgar thing in front of three of the most innocent people he’d ever met, as well as the human embodiment of an unneutered dog, he swirled the bottle in his hand as he melodramatically sighed, “okay, Bernie. Your turn. Spill it.”

Although the innocent trio were still gawking at the sudden declaration, Bernadetta squeaked when she realized she’d have to talk next. Still, she took the bottle and took a tiny sip. Flushing bright red and burying her face in her hands, she mumbled unconvincingly, “there’s nothing to spill! I’ve been in my room for the last month!”

“But… Bernadetta,” Marianne’s soft, sweet voice coaxed the other girl to raise her head, albeit begrudgingly. However, the angel’s next words were damning. “I saw you with Dorothea the other day...”

“You _saw_ that?” Bernadetta sputtered, hands clutching the sides of her head and tangling her hair. “I-I mean, that didn’t happen! You’re all conspiring against m-“ She suddenly stopped and squeezed her eyes shut, taking in a shuddering breath to calm herself. No one was out to get her, least of all, Marianne. Letting out the air much steadier than before, she mumbled, “alright, yeah. She invited me out for coffee.”

Marianne let out a quiet, but delighted noise and clasped her hands over her mouth to hide her giddy smile. “A date!”

“IT WASN’T A DATE!” The outburst startled Bernadetta herself, and she lowered her voice to a frantic whisper. “N-nothing happened! We just had coffee and chatted about her latest gig!”

“What did she do after the date?” Sylvain grunted as he heaved himself onto his creaky dorm bed. He laid across it, leaving his arms and head dangling over the edge. 

“Well, we said goodbye and were walking away, but-” muttered the blushing girl, looking up at the ceiling to avoid eye contact, “-she turned around and ran up to me… and _tackled_ me.”

There was a beat of confused silence. Ashe piped up, his voice gentle as if talking to a jumpy animal. “You mean… like, a hug?”

“…It was very aggressive.”

“Oh, Bernie. Dorothea is always _aggressive_ with you and no one else when she gets affectionate.” A foolhardy, brave drunk cooed, drawing all eyes to him as he tried to talk some sense into Bernadetta. “You quintessential bisexual, so sweet and disastrous. You’re so uselessly in love.”

“You’re one to talk!” Bernadetta’s face couldn’t be any redder as she practically screeched at him. “You-you’re the one who’s basically in love with a _bratty cat!_ ”

The hysterical laughter from Claude and Sylvain seemed only to rile up the flustered girl. Their cackling became hideously intertwined with her squawking and went on for an ungodly long time. So long, in fact, that both men were clutching their stomach in pain while Bernadetta verged on losing her voice. Ashe, ever the sweet boy, stepped in with a firm, “alright, let’s settle down now.”

Back to covering her face in embarrassment, Bernadetta blindly held out the bottle for Marianne to nab. The timid girl kindly accepted it with a small, “thank you,” before taking an uncharacteristically large swig. She set the bottle down with a small thunk, grimacing at the terrible taste as the rest of the gang stared on in muted surprise. As she fidgeted with her necklace, she felt like she deserved to drink as a way to celebrate the recent developments. “I mentioned last time that I really liked this girl… um…” 

Knowing that Marianne always needed a little encouragement to continue talking, Ashe helpfully gestured to the gorgeous resin pendant in her hand to ask, “the one who gave you that necklace, right?” and a glowing smile appeared on her face as she nodded. She never mentioned the girl’s name, and the group didn’t pressure her to tell. Surely, she had her reasons.

“Jeez, it seemed like just yesterday I was coaching you on how to smile more…” Sylvain let out an overdramatic sigh, propping his drunkenly droopy head up with his elbows. “You’ve got better game than me, that’s for sure. This girl made a fucking necklace for you! That’s so romantic! All I get from Felix is a slap – if I’m lucky.”

“She didn’t just _give_ it to you, right? She _made_ it.” Bernadetta cleared her throat and contributed with a small, nervous smile. “Sounds like she’s really into you.”

As Marianne flushed, Claude looked over at her with an inscrutable expression. “Hey, Mari,” he hummed, extending his hand out. “I didn’t get to see it up close last time. Could I check it out?” She nodded and unclasped the necklace to drop it into his hand. Immediately, he began turning it over in his hand, studying it intently. Just as Ashe was about to ask what he was doing, Claude let out a bark of laughter and returned it to Marianne with a knowing smile. “You should ask this girl out. I think it’ll go well.”

All eyes turned to Ashe as Marianne handed him the bottle. The only success to come out of their little gossip circle.

“Dedue… is just absolutely lovely,” he blushed slightly as he was met with delighted laughs and celebration. Ashe, unlike the rest of the group, actually took initiative and asked out the guy he was into. They were _adorable_ together. He, as was tradition, took a swig from the cherry liqueur as well before continuing with, “I’ll be flying out to his home over the holidays to meet his family.” 

“Holy shit, look at how you’re blushing! You’re so cute!” Sylvain reached over and pinched Ashe’s flushed cheeks. His friend laughed somewhat abashedly and put his own hands over Sylvain’s as he was showered with the other man’s classic drunken affection. “How did you do it? How did you muster up enough courage to ask him out?”

“Sylvain, you were the one who screeched, ‘just say it quick so your dumb, reasonable brain doesn’t hold you back!’ while clutching onto my face just like you’re doing now.”

“Oh, really?” Sylvain mumbled, brows knitted together as he tried his best to think with his inebriated mind. It vaguely dawned on him, surprisingly enough, as he moved to pet Ashe’s soft hair. “To be honest, I was half-joking when I said that. I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

“Is that really how you did it?” Marianne wondered out loud, wistfully clutching onto her pendant, almost as if praying. “I think… I might be able to do it.”

While the rest of the group excitedly reassured Marianne that it would go well, Bernadetta shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. “You’d just… go up to her and ask her out without thinking? That’s terrifying.”

“Dorothea adores you, Bernie. I can almost guarantee she’d say yes.” Claude chuckled, nudging her with his shoulder. “Just ask her out!”

“I-I can’t just _say_ that!” Bernadetta cried out, trying to bury her face even more in her hands. “I don’t _talk_ to people well!”

“Oh!!! _OH!!_ ” The redhead who was practically hypnotized from petting Ashe’s hair suddenly perked up, waving his arms around wildly. “Bernie! You could _write_ instead! You’re such a good writer!”

This seemed to catch her attention. She lifted her head ever so slightly to look at Sylvain with doe eyes, still seeming uncertain about it but much more accepting of it than the previous idea. “Is… is that still okay to do? A love letter or something?”

If Sylvain ever wanted to get one thing clear to Bernadetta, it would be that she was a talented, _talented_ artist. She’d honed her skills which included everything from embroidery to writing through years of being holed up in her room. Although they were all close friends, Sylvain was still the only one to have read her manuscript, and he didn’t intend for his precious friend’s skills go to unnoticed. In his brilliant, drunk mind, this would be the perfect plan to get her to realize two things; that she was a great writer and that Dorothea was absolutely head over heels for her. 

Although the prospect of having her work be read was terrifying, it seemed like it was less daunting than actually saying it in person. Bernadetta laughed nervously, clutching her forehead and desperately combing through her mind for some idea to work off of. This proved to be difficult, as she was a little more buzzed than she thought. 

“Sylvain, why don’t you do that as well?” Ashe suddenly chirped, patting his friend’s cheek with a smile. “It could work since it’s something completely different from what you usually do. Felix might take it seriously for once! And-” he turned toward Claude and Marianne, “-you too! You should write a letter! Doing something out of the ordinary will catch their attention, right?”

“Me? Write?” Claude put his hands out in front of him with a hesitant laugh, peering over at Marianne for some backup. “I haven’t written anything other than papers in the last couple of years. I’m more of a reader anyway.”

“So… write a paper, then.” The blue-haired girl beside him quietly suggested, smiling slightly at his shocked expression. “Write an essay or something about why he should go out with you.”

“Okay, Mari, I love you so, so much, but I have too much dignity to resort to writing the dumbest man alive an academic paper on why we should hold hands romantically.” 

Sylvain made a confused, and somewhat disgusted face. “I thought it was fuck?”

“It was, but I think I need to lower my standards.”

“I’m serious!” Ashe bravely marched on, completely ignoring Sylvain and Claude’s exchange. “You know what? I think this is the only time I’ll ever be able to convince you all of doing something like this, so I’m going to run to my room and grab some supplies!” 

Before they could interject, Ashe was already scrambling out the door to head to his dorm. It was only then when they noticed how he was slightly unsteady and red, no doubt just as drunk as the rest of them. He only seemed more reasonable because _somebody_ had to be in this chaos. 

“Is this a good idea?” Bernadetta gulped as she watched the door swing shut, nervously fidgeting with her hands. 

“Well, he’s right when he said this would be the only time any of us would actually do it,” mumbled Claude, grabbing the bottle that was forgotten at Marianne’s feet to raise it up mockingly, “so I’m down for it. Writing a bunch of letters while drunk? What could possibly go wrong?” 

Bottle number two was very well loved for the rest of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all should look into getting a Depression Session group cus its GREAT (it's not all venting cus we're all chaotic dumbasses)  
> Dedicated to my fellow depression session member <3
> 
> *edit: updates are being worked on but I'm currently in the midst of midterm projects, so it'll be delayed. Sorry about that!


End file.
